Double Blind
by chocolatequeen
Summary: Double-blind: a study in which neither the researcher nor the subjects are aware of critical details regarding the experiment. Done to eliminate the possibility of bias influencing the results. James Noble has been asking Rose out almost from the moment they met at Uni. Tired of being asked, and even more tired of her friends pushing her to say yes, Rose finds an unconventional way
1. Chapter 1

"Rose! Rose Tyler!" The blonde in question put on speed, hoping to get to her flat before her persistent classmate reached her, but once again, his long legs made up the distance between them far too easily.

Rose didn't even try to mask her sigh when James Noble fell into step beside her. "Come on, Rose, you don't even know what I'm going to say."

"Not exactly, I suppose." Rose switched her books to her left hand so she could unlock her door with her right. "But I'm willing to bet it starts with, 'Will you go with me to…'"

"Something like that," he admitted, shoving a hand into his already artfully ruffled hair.

"Then see, I was just trying to save us both time," Rose said brightly. "My answer is the same as it's been every other time. No." She closed the door in his face before he could argue.

"I don't know why you won't go with him at least once, Rose," Martha said without looking up from her thick biology text book.

Rose rolled her eyes. "If you're going to tell me again how we're perfect for each other, I'll just go to my room where I can study without any unwanted commentary on my love life."

"You don't have a love life," her roommate pointed out calmly.

"Not listening!" Rose glanced down the hall toward her room then detoured toward the kitchen first. "D'you want a cuppa?" she asked Martha as she filled the kettle.

"No, I'm fine. Look, we're going to the pub tonight. You should come."

"Can't. I need to study."

Rose felt the air shift as she spooned her favourite tea into the pot, and she knew her friend was standing behind her. "Seriously, what do you have against James Noble? That man hasn't looked at another woman since he laid eyes on you—and let me tell you, it isn't for lack of trying on their part. Remember last term in our early French lit class when—"

"When Renee walked in and just planted one on him?" Rose broke into giggles. "Oh, the look on his face."

"Can you believe she thought she was some reincarnated French aristocrat?" Martha cocked an eyebrow. "And he didn't even kiss her back. A gorgeous French woman just threw herself at him, and the only thing he cared about was making sure you knew _she_ kissed _him, _and not the other way around. So tell me, why won't you even spend the evening at the pub with him as friends?"

The kettle went off and Rose took her time pouring water into the pot, selecting a cup from the cupboard, and putting the precise amount of milk and sugar in to make the perfect cuppa. As she'd known would happen, Martha lost patience before the process was over and left her alone to finish making her tea. Rose knew her friend meant well, but ever since she and Mickey had finally stopped dancing around their feelings, she'd gotten on the romance bandwagon.

It wasn't that she didn't like James, Rose told herself as she carried her tea back to her room, pausing to scoop her books up off the kitchen table. It was just that he never talked to her about anything but going out and the last thing Rose wanted was to be the centre of someone's universe.

The tea calmed her down a little, and she turned her laptop on to study. Her browser window was still open to Facebook, and she laughed when she saw the advert in the right panel. "The Unboyfriend. Friends pestering you about being single? Mum trying to hook you up with her friend's son? Sign up for an Unboyfriend and get all the benefit of a long distance boyfriend, but none of the commitment."

DWDWDWDWDW

Rose didn't laugh when the advert appeared again during half-term. James had asked her out for the fiftieth time, Martha had pressed her to just get to know him no fewer than three times, and her mum was still banging on about how she'd let a good thing go when she'd lost Mickey. The idea of a fake boyfriend had a lot of appeal—enough that after a moment's hesitation, she clicked the link.

She read carefully through the FAQs. It seemed pretty straightforward; once she signed up, she'd be matched with an Unboyfriend. The company would provide them both with email addresses specifically for communicating with each other, and a proxy mobile number that would forward text messages to their phones. All in all, they seemed to go out of their way to keep their clients' information confidential.

_I can't believe I'm doing this,_ Rose thought as she started filling in her interests survey. She kept it as basic as she could, not really wanting to give away too much, but one line stopped her.

**Preferred name.**

It hadn't even occurred to Rose that she could give a fake name, that she could create some kind of distance between herself and her Unboyfriend. She stared at the line for several minutes, weighing the pros and cons. If the point of having a fake boyfriend was to convince Martha she was already seeing someone, she couldn't very well show her messages addressed to someone else. But…

Rose bit her lip and filled it in with the first name that came to her. _Lily Evans._ She smirked at her private little joke. Just like Lily Evans, she knew what it was like to be relentlessly pursued by a skinny bloke with messy hair named James.

DWDWDWDWDW

James stared up at his ceiling. Maybe if he focused on trying to find a pattern to the dots, he could forget the frustrated and annoyed look on Rose's face when she'd turned him down on Thursday. Jack had asked him once why he kept asking when she kept saying no, and he'd rambled on in eloquent fashion about how beautiful Rose Tyler's smile was and how he kept asking because he hoped one day, she'd smile at him that way.

"But today is not that day," he muttered, mimicking Aragorn's inflection in the words.

Vibrations under his back nearly sent James jumping off the bed, until he realised his phone had slipped between his back and the bed while he'd been reading. He fished around for it and tapped the email app.

** .uk: You've been matched.**

James gulped. He'd signed up on a dare, more or less. After watching him crash and burn with Rose for what was approximately the forty-fifth time, his flat mate had teased him into signing up as a boyfriend for the service. "Maybe pretending to be a boyfriend for a while will show you where you're going wrong."

The comment had stung, more than Jack knew. No one seemed to take his feelings for Rose seriously, except maybe Martha. She was clever and gorgeous and so kind, to everyone but him at least. The room lit up when Rose walked in, because she made people feel better about themselves just by showing up.

In a fit of pique, James had filled out the profile. And now he'd been matched with someone, and he remembered why he never did what Jack told him to do.

_What if we have nothing in common and I can't find anything to talk to her about? What if we talk once and she hates me and asks the company to give her someone else? OR WORSE, what if she falls in love with me and I have to break her heart?_

He shook all the possibilities from his mind and opened the email. Immediately, he knew his first concern was unfounded. Whatever her real name was, she'd asked to be called Lily Evans. With any luck, that meant she loved Harry Potter.

He scanned the email for "Lily's" contact information before remembering what his original registration email had said. "Initial contact will entirely at the discretion of the client. It doesn't happen often, but occasionally someone will register, only to regret it later."

_Guess I'll just have to wait._

DWDWDWDWDW

Rose tapped her fingers against her mobile, trying to figure out what to say. The site had assured her that "John Smith" had her information, but how exactly did you start texting with a bloke who was pretending to be your boyfriend? She finally settled on the obvious: _Hi, this is Lily_.

Her phone buzzed a minute later, and even though she'd been staring at it, hoping to get a reply, she still squealed and dropped it on the floor. "Rose? You all right in there?" her mum called from the living room.

"I'm fine, Mum."

Rose scooped the phone up and tapped the message icon.

_Nice to meet you, Lily. I'm… Oh, I suppose I'm John Smith. Never really had a fake name before, that'll take some getting used to._

_Yeah, it's a bit weird isn't it? I mean, I get why they suggest it, but I've never really thought about being called anything but my name, so I had to think about it for a moment. _Rose bit her lip and shook her head. _Guess I could have just gone the easy route like some people,_ she teased. _Really, John Smith? That's like, the most common name in England._

John started typing right away, and Rose was surprised to find she was eager to hear what he said. Teasing him so early had been a calculated risk; would he be comfortable enough to tease her back?

_Well that's the advantage, isn't it?_ he said. _We all know a John Smith, or more than one. So when you tell your friends you're dating someone named John Smith, no one will think it's the one they know. _

Rose raised an eyebrow. _You picked a boring name with me in mind, huh?_

_Well, maybe not you in particular, since I had no idea I'd be matched you with, Miss Evans. _The combination of the precise language and formal address made Rose giggle._ That name though—that name carries some weight with it. You wouldn't happen to be a Harry Potter fan, would you?_

Rose grinned and settled back against her pillows. _Might be. _

_What made you choose Lily instead of Hermione or Ginny or any of the other heroines?_

She started to answer, then stopped and deleted it. Would he even get the reference? Would it matter? What if he thought it was stupid?

_Still there, Lily?_

_Its a bit silly really. _Rose bit her lip, then typed an answer and hit send before she could second guess herself again. _See, there's this bloke in my class who keeps asking me out. He's fine—takes no for an answer and just tries again the next week. Not an "arrogant toerag" like James Potter, but… I s'pose I'm just tired of being asked, like Lily must have been._

James stared at his phone. When Jack had teased him with the idea that he might learn something as a fake boyfriend that might help him win Rose over, he hadn't thought he'd get this lucky.

He tapped his fingers against the back of the phone, trying to find a way to subtly ask Lily if there was anything her "James" could do gain her affection.

_Is that why you signed up for Unboyfriend? _he finally sent as the opener.

_A little. It's like the website says, yeah? Everyone kept pestering me to date, and they all had someone in mind. My mum still thinks I should hook back up with my old boyfriend, even though we don't have much in common anymore. _

James bounced his foot on the bed, waiting for her to explain more about the classmate who kept asking her out.

_It's my friends who think I should date… Well, let's call him James. They've decided we're like, star-crossed lovers or something. Soul mates, meant to be. They're determined to get us together, and I'm just not interested. I thought if I told them I was already dating someone…_

_Quite right_. He considered for a moment, and finally decided he didn't really have anything to lose by asking. _Can I ask… I assume you have a reason for turning him down?_

As soon as he hit send, he remembered Donna's rants about how women shouldn't need to justify turning a man down, and he started typing again. _I mean, maybe you just don't like him, which is fine, but… it just sounds like maybe there's more to it?_

Lily started replying right away, and he held his breath. _Thanks John. You're the first person who hasn't insisted it wasn't enough to just not be interested._

She kept typing, and James crossed his fingers. If Lily could show him where he was going wrong with Rose, maybe they could at least be friends.

_I suppose he's a nice enough bloke. But asking me out… it doesn't seem like he takes it seriously. It's more like, 'Oh, it's been a few days. I should chat Lily up again,' y'know? And he never tries just talking and getting to know me._

James stared at her words, a rock setting in the pit of his stomach. Lily could be describing him, instead this other James. What really hurt though was what she hadn't said. _You don't think he's really interested._

_Nah. It's just a game to him, that's all. If I ever said yes, I bet he'd be tripping over himself trying to back out._

James fervently hoped Rose thought better of him than Lily did of her admirer, but he had to admit that he'd never done anything to indicate to her that he was interested beyond asking her out.

Jack stuck his head into the room. "James. C'mon, we're getting out of here."

James looked at his phone and sighed. "Fine, I'll be out in a minute. Just let me put a clean shirt on." Jack disappeared and James sent a quick message to Lily. _I have to go, Lily. My flat mate is insisting we do more over half-term than just lie around the flat. But I'll text you later if that's all right._

_That's fine. Have fun, John._

DWDWDWDWDW

On Monday morning, Rose had her head down, re-reading John's email while she walked to class. They'd started talking about Harry Potter more later in the weekend, and he'd sent her a long message listing all the things the films got wrong.

She was laughing and shaking her head over his diatribe about how giving all of Ron's best lines to Hermione had actually weakened her character when she walked into something warm and decidedly solid. The impact nearly toppled her backwards, but a strong hand grabbed her elbow and held her upright.

"Whoa, are you all right?" James asked, dropping his hand once she'd regained her balance.

"Yeah." She snorted and shoved her phone into her pocket. "That's what I get for not watching where I'm going, yeah?"

He ran his hand through his hair, but for once, the habitual move looked more… more like a nervous tic. Rose's stomach dropped. She really wasn't ready to see the look on his face when she told him she had a boyfriend, but putting it off wouldn't make it any easier. _He'll get over it anyway,_ she reminded herself. _He's not really interested._

"Look, James—"

"I'm sorry!" he blurted out before she could finish, leaving her gaping.

"You're… what?"

"I'm sorry I kept asking you out," he aid, looking both miserable and penitent. "We both know you're not interested in me, but…" He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "Maybe we could be friends?"

Rose stared at him. Nothing had gone the way she'd expected since she'd gotten back to uni. Martha and Mickey had fought over the weekend, leading her friend to rant about how Rose had been smart, not saying yes to James. And now James was apologising?

"Who are you and what have you done with James Noble?" she asked, only half kidding.

He winced. "I might have talked to someone over the weekend who pointed a few things out to me."

Rose bit her lip. She'd been all set to tell him she had a boyfriend, but the idea of lying when there apparently wasn't any need didn't sit well with her. She hadn't told Martha yet for the same reason—had signing up for the Unboyfriend been completely superfluous?

Their classmates started to trickle into the room before she could form an answer for him, so she gave him a weak smile and said, "We'll talk later, 'kay James?"

But instead, she spent most of the week with Martha, trying to help her sort through the argument with Mickey. No one knew Mickey Smith's shortcomings as well as she did, but she knew his strengths better than most too, and by the end of the week, the couple was at least talking again.

On Saturday morning, Rose pulled a well-worn book from her shelf and walked to the corner coffee shop, determined to get a few hours of quiet and reading in. After ordering her latte and pastry, she settled into her favourite seat—the squeaky booth toward the back of the cafe—and opened her book.

_Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense._

A shadow fell across her table just when Harry made the glass disappear. "Well hello, Rose Tyler."

She knew the voice, but instead of his usual flirty tone, James just sounded glad to see her. Rose let the book fall shut on her finger and looked up t him. "I've never seen you in here before."

James shrugged. "Ships in the night, apparently. Everyone knows this is the best place in town to get reading done."

Rose nodded; it was true. She caught sight of the book he was holding and grinned. It was a brand-new, hard cover copy of the same book she held in tattered paperback. "First time or reread?" she asked.

James pulled out the chair and raised his eyebrows in question, not sitting until she said yes. "Oh, re-read Rose! I just needed to get a set to keep here; my old ones are at home."

It was only after they parted ways two hours later that Rose realised they never actually did talk about being friends. _I guess we are now._


	2. Chapter 2

AN: This might turn out to be 4 chapters instead of 3. I had to cut this one off earlier than I expected, partly due to length and partly because I really wanted to post this tonight. I'm still hoping to finish it before the end of the weekend.

Martha and Rose reached the front door of the flat at the same time. "Where've you been?" Martha asked as she unlocked the door.

"I could ask you the same question," Rose teased, noticing her friend was in the same clothes she'd worn the day before. She laughed when Martha nudged her with her shoulder. "I was at Coffeevilla reading." She dropped her book on the coffee table and sat down on the sofa, while Martha continued down the hall toward her room. "Well, mostly reading," she amended, cursing her own need for complete accuracy.

"Mostly?" Martha called back.

Rose traced the pattern in the worn upholstery. She hadn't told Martha about James' apology. _Will she pester me to date him again, if I tell her we're gonna be friends? I guess that's what John is for._

"Yeah. James showed up, and we ended up talking."

There was silence from Martha's room, and Rose bit her lip. After a minute's pause, Martha's face appeared in the hallway, her jaw hanging open slightly. "James Noble."

"Yeah."

"The James Noble you've been ignoring for six months."

Rose kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet up under her. "Well, I didn't get a chance to tell you—he actually apologised for asking me out all the time. We're gonna try bein' friends, him and me."

Martha shook her head slowly. "I do not understand what just happened. You have actively avoided any gathering where James might be present, and now you're going to be his friend."

Rose sighed. "I never hated him," she pointed out. "I just didn't want to date him. Or I didn't know him well enough to know if I did, and he never let me get to know him."

"So… now you're getting to know him."

Martha leaned against the wall and stared at Rose, and Rose knew exactly what she was thinking. "As friends," she said firmly.

"Look Rose," Martha said slowly, her forehead wrinkled in a frown, "I honestly believe that's your intent. But James has been head over heels for you for ages. Are you sure he's not hoping for more?"

Rose bit her lip. "I thought about it," she admitted. "But I can't refuse to give people a chance. He said he's happy being friends, and I'm gonna take him at his word."

Martha left for work shortly after that, and Rose pulled her books out to study some before they all met at the pub for supper. She read through the essay she was supposed to analyse three times before slamming the book shut in frustration. None of the words made any sense—her mind was too busy thinking about all the implications of her morning with James and Martha's warning.

On impulse, she reached for her phone and opened the text conversation with John. _How can you tell if someone has really, truly changed?_ She sent the message, then got up to make herself a cuppa.

DWDWDWDWDW

Flushed with the success of his morning with Rose, James was on one of his typical rambles through the city when his phone chimed. He raised his eyebrows a bit when he saw Lily's question. "Is her Mr. Potter attempting to redeem himself?" he wondered aloud.

As a personal rule, James tended not to give second chances. He'd been burned too many times. But today, Rose had talked to him and that changed his perspective. _Hard to say without more details,_ he started, not knowing exactly what she was asking. _But isn't it usually better to err on the side of second chances? _he asked, remembering how generous Rose had been.

_That's what I usually think,_ Lily replied.

The uncertainty he read in her words gave James pause. _Of course, there are times when the first mistake was so heinous, giving a second chance puts you in danger._

Almost instantly, she sent back a laughing emoticon. _Nothing like that. Thanks though, that put it in perspective. Even if he's lying to me, the worst that could happen is me being angry and disappointed. The best… I have a new friend._

The simplicity of her assessment stopped James in the middle of the pavement. He stared at his phone for several minutes, oblivious to the activity around him.

_John? Still there?_

_Yeah, I'm here Lily. I'm just… thinking about what you said._

_It's nothing that profound, really._

The mutterings of other pedestrians broke through James' daze, and he started walking again, typing as he went. _It is,_ he disagreed. _I've always given second chances based on the likelihood that they're deserved, and I don't give many._

_But you said I should._

James remembered the warmth of Rose's smile when they laughed at Uncle Vernon's attempts to get away from the letters. _Well, I just got one myself, so I know how good it feels to be forgiven today. _

_Did you deserve it?_

_I hope so, but you, Lily Evans, keep distracting me from what I'm trying to say. _James show his head, a slight smile on his face. _I never thought of looking at it from the angle of, "What's the worst that could happen?"_

_Oh._

James found a bench and sat down, his legs stretched out in front of him. _Yep. I think it's safe to say I'll be thinking about this for a while. _

There was a long pause on her end this time, and he was fairly certain he'd embarrassed her. Finally, she started typing, and he sat up straight.

_You've been hurt, haven't you?_ The keen observation cut through all his defences, and he nearly dropped his phone. _You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to._

Instead of feeling like she was giving him space, James smarted at the presumption that he might want to tell her some of the worst bits of his life when they'd only known each other for a few weeks. _Good. I don't,_ he sent, then shoved the phone into his pocket and walked home.

DWDWDWDWDWDW

Monday came, and John hadn't replied to either of the texts Rose had sent. His hurt had been so apparent to her that the question had come almost without her realising it, but as soon as she'd sent that message, she'd known it was too personal. Still, she hadn't expected to get the door slammed shut in her face. _Hopefully he decides to give one of those rare second chances,_ she thought as she walked to class.

She slowed when she heard footsteps behind her, and soon James was walking beside her. "Did you have a good weekend,Rose?"

Rose thought of her silent phone. "To be honest, it kinda went downhill after I left the café," she admitted, taking care not to say anything like, "That morning with you was the best part."

To her surprise, his face clouded over. "So did mine," he said, sounding more subdued than she'd heard him before. Then he shook his head and his familiar manic smile spread across his face, but today she realised it didn't erase the shadows in his eyes. "Which is a shame, because it was off to such a brilliant start. And that, Rose Tyler, is actually what I wanted to talk to you about today. What would you say to rereading Harry Potter together? We could meet on Saturdays to talk about the books."

Rose sighed. This sounded very much like a back door to dating. "No no," he said hurriedly, interpreting the sound correctly. "Not—not dates." He was so flustered, Rose was inclined to believe him, especially when he continued to fumble for an explanation. "It's just… We both like the books, and we're both reading them again. I thought it might be fun to talk about the new things we see, and I've completely bollocksed this up, haven't I?"

He looked so disappointed, and she wondered for the first time if her rejections had actually hurt him. "No, you haven't," she assured him. "As long as you just mean as friends…"

He nodded vigorously. "Right, as friends. Friends talk about books, don't they?"

"They do," she agreed. "So … Saturday morning at Coffeevilla?"

This time, the smile banished every cloud from James' face, and Rose was forced to admit he was a very good looking man. "I look forward to it, Rose."

The late autumn sun shone gently on Rose's back as she studied in her favourite corner of the library that afternoon. When her phone vibrated and danced across the table, she snatched it up before it could make any more noise. The message app opened automatically when she swiped it open, and her eyebrows shot up when she saw what John had sent.

_If you won a million pounds, what would you do?_

The complete disregard for the 48 hours of silence annoyed her. _Excuse me?_

_Come on, Lily. It's a classic getting to know you question._

Rose dropped her book on the table, not caring how loud the thud was. _Am I just supposed to ignore the fact that you haven't talked to me for two days?_

_You asked a very personal question._

_Yeah, and I apologised. Twice._ She drew in a deep breath to calm herself, and started again. _Look, I'm not upset if you… if you needed a few days off. _

_It sure doesn't seem that way._

Rose counted to three. She had missed John, and she wanted to fix this, but she wasn't going to let him get away with pretending the weekend hadn't happened, especially when he still seemed so bent out of shape about it.

_I understand, really. But you can't just come back without even acknowledging my apology. I need to know we're fine, John._

_Yes, we're fine! I forgive you, all right?_

It was the best she was going to get, she figured. If she pushed harder, she had a feeling he'd just cut her off entirely.

_Travel._

_What?_

_You asked what I'd do if I had a million pounds. After the obvious things like paying bills and helping family, I'd travel._

Rose counted the long pause as a victory. Apparently, John was as thrown by her sudden about face as she'd been by his out of the blue question. "Maybe now he understands how disconcerting that was," she mumbled.

_Right, travel,_ he said finally. _An excellent answer, Lily Evans. _

_What would you do?_

_Oh, travel definitely. There's far too much of the universe to see to sit at home, watching telly and eating beans on toast._

Rose giggled. _The universe? Not content to stay Earth-bound then?_

_Earth's a starting point, of course, but there's so much more out there. _A moment later, he sent a gorgeous picture of a butterfly shaped nebula. _You could come with me, if you want._

_All right then, where would we go first?_

_Ohhh, I know! Barcelona!_

_Would that be the city Barcelona, or the planet?_ Rose teased

_You are brilliant, Lily. What do you think the planet Barcelona is like? Maybe they've got dogs with no noses!_

_But how do they smell?_ Rose laughed out loud at her own joke, and someone at the table behind her abruptly and not too subtly collected his books and moved to the other side of the room. She looked around guiltily, then down at her own coursework.

_Listen, John, I need to get back to studying. _

_All right then, I'll come up with more planets we can explore ._

_You do that. I'll text again later, okay?_

_Looking forward to it. And Lily?_

_Yeah?_

_I'm sorry._

Not even a difficult essay for her French class could stop Rose from smiling.

It was pouring when James left his flat Saturday morning but he just opened his enormous blue umbrella and stepped out into he rain with a bounce in his step. Nothing could dim his excitement to spend the morning with Rose, certainly not the rain—even the interstellar adventures he'd planned with Lily had taken a back seat to reading Harry Potter.

He remembered his misstep with Lily and winced. As uncomfortable as it had been, she'd been right not to let him get away with pretending he hadn't been upset. Somehow, he'd thought forgiveness meant shoving the hurt aside, but thinking about the way Rose had been so open about the mistakes he'd made and what she expected of him, he thought he'd probably gotten it wrong.

Rose wasn't there yet when he arrived. In a burst of impulse, he ordered tea for both of them and took it to the table they'd sat at the week before. _If she's walking in this, she'll want something hot when she gets here,_ he thought as he poured sugar into his own cup and took a sip.

When she was ten minutes late, he worried the rain had kept her way, but then the door blew open and Rose entered on a guest of wind, shaking drops of water off her jacket as she pulled the door shut.

"No brolly?" James asked and pushed a cup of tea toward her.

She wrapped her hands around it gratefully. "It turned inside out as soon as I stepped out into this mess."

"I'll walk you home," he offered. "Mine is plenty big for both of us. But first, let's talk about harry Potter. How far did you get?"

She lifted the cup to her nose and breathed deeply before answering. "Mmmm. Oh, I got to the first lesson with Snape."

James leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms in front of him. "It's weird, isn't it, reading that now and knowing why he was so hard on Harry? Sort of paints him in a different light."

Rose sipped her tea, and James was glad to see some colour returning to her cheeks. He hadn't wanted to show to much concern, lest he appear overly interested, but she'd obviously been chilled to the bone when she arrived.

"I don't think it does, not really," she said, forcing James to remember what they'd been talking about.

_Ah, Snape._

"Or if it does change your opinion, it's for the worse. I understand why Dumbledore chose to keep him around—he'd groomed the perfect spy, after all—but I don't think I'd have trusted him. And nothing justifies the way he treated Harry."

"Well no—but don't you think he deserved a second chance?"

Rose pressed her lips into a thin line. "He had so many second chances, and he threw them all away."

"Not the last one," James disagreed.

Her eyes narrowed. "Right. He was so hung up on Lily's rejection that he abused her son, fifteen years later. That was not what Dumbledore had in mind when he gave Snape a job."

The total lack of mercy was so at odds with what James expected from Rose that he couldn't let the subject go. "But he was perfectly poised to help save the Wizarding World from Voldemort!"

Rose sighed and slumped a little. "Look, I know he's complex and that he was ultimately on the right side, but… he's so deeply flawed, and it bothers me when I hear people praising him, as if that one deed made up for everything that came before." Her eyes sparked dangerously. "Severus Snape was a berk and a bully," she snapped.

James stared at Rose, a little afraid she might think he was like Snape, but more focused by what she'd just accidentally revealed about herself. Her body language when she spoke about Snape indicated personal experience. "I didn't know you felt so strongly on the subject," he said, trying to lighten the conversation.

But Rose flinched. "Let's just say I know blokes who don't take kindly to rejection, who can't accept that you're not interested and get mean when you turn them down."

The fact that his suspicions were correct made James a little sick to his stomach, but before he could say anything that might distract her from the unpleasant memories, she slapped her hand over her mouth. "James! Oh, I am so sorry." He looked at her blankly. "I didn't think… please believe me when I say I wasn't talking about you just then. You were persistent, but polite—much more of a James than a Severus."

"My parents thought so too," he quipped, finally teasing a smile from her. "I wasn't offended, Rose. But now I see that my approach might not have been the best way to win you over."

Her laughter broke the tension, and they spent the next hour discussing Harry's entrance to the Wizarding World and carefully avoiding all mention of Severus Snape.

The remaining weeks of the term flew by. Rose and James worked their way through the first two books before their book chat sessions became study sessions, and Lily and John had amazing adventures in exotic locations like Woman Wept, a planet where the entire ocean had frozen in the middle of a storm, leaving huge waves you could walk on.

Rose's good mood slowly drained away as the train took her closer to London and home. Her old school friends had sent several messages over the last few days about all the parties they wanted to take her to, and she didn't know how to tell them that she wasn't the same young, irresponsible girl she'd been two years ago.

Her mother at least welcomed her with open arms and, for once, only the smallest hints about school being a waste of her time or Mickey being such a loss. Her room hadn't changed since she was ten and in the middle of a bright pink phase. Even though she didn't love the colour like she used to, it was familiar and hers, and she settled in easily.

But two days later, she couldn't put her friends off any longer. "C'mon, Rose," Shireen prodded. "We've barely seen you since you went to that school. The least you can do is come to the party tonight. Or are you too good for us now that you hang out with all your posh friends?"

Rose bristled. "Not everyone at school is posh, Shireen. An' just because you didn't want to go to uni, that doesn't mean there's something wrong with people who do."

Shireen sighed. "Nah, I know that. But Rose, seriously. When's the last time you went out for a night, just to have fun? An' down to the pub with your study group don't count."

"Fine, I'll come to the party. But!" she added, cutting off the squeal from Shireen, "I'm not letting you choose my outfit."

"You're no fun at all anymore, Rose Tyler," Shireen pouted, making Rose wonder for the first of many times if she'd regret agreeing to this.

The second time she wondered was when she could hear the music from halfway down the street. All the doors to the house were flung open, letting light and music stream outside. If the volume got much louder, Rose wouldn't be surprised if someone called the cops—and that wasn't really how she wanted to spend the evening.

She had half a mind to go home and text Shireen with an excuse about not feeling well, but her friend must have been keeping an eye out for her. "Rose!" she yelled, running out into the street to drag her along. "You won't believe this! There are so many people here!"

"I can tell," Rose muttered.

Someone pushed a beer into her hand the moment she crossed the threshold, and Rose took a long draw, hoping it would make the music or atmosphere more enjoyable. It didn't.

It was half three when Rose stumbled into her bedroom. The tears in her eyes were more of a deterrent to walking steadily than the slight amount of alcohol in her system. _Bloody Shireen. Why didn't she tell me he'd be there?_

When she stripped off the skinny jeans and silky top she'd worn to the party, something fell out of her pocket and landed with a dull thud on the carpeted floor. Rose got down on her hands and knees and reached around until she found her phone.

An impulse struck her, one she wasn't quite sober enough to repress. _Are you awake, John?_

Several long moments went by before she got a reply, long enough for her to change into her pyjamas, wash her face, and comb her hair out.

_Lily? Are you all right?_

'_Course I am. Why wouldn't I be? I'm always all right._

_And now I know something's up, and not just because you wouldn't normally be texting me at 3:48 in the morning. Tell me._

Rose took a deep breath, trying to hold in the sobs that threatened. _You sure you want to know?_

_You're upset. Talk to me, Lily._

A few more tears leaked out. If John cared about what had happened, why didn't her own best friend? _I was at a party tonight with some friends from school, and I ran into an old boyfriend._

_Did he hurt you?_

_No. Not like you're thinking, anyway. _"Not tonight at least," Rose added under her breath.

_What happened, Lily?_

Rose hesitated. She and John and talked a lot in the last two months, but there were still some things she hadn't shared. Wasn't there some kind of line she shouldn't cross?

_I really want to know, as long as you're comfortable telling me._

_Well, I finally had a chance to tell someone I have a "boyfriend," _Rose typed, trying to put a light-hearted angle on the disaster.

_I thought you said he didn't try anything._

Even though she'd never met John, she could almost hear the anger in those words. _I said he didn't succeed, not that he didn't try,_ she corrected. _And he really didn't get any farther than a few chat up lines before I shut him down. That's when he got nasty._

_Verbally or physically?_

_Verbally. Said going to uni had given me airs, made me think I was better than I am. Said he wasn't really interested, but he'd thought I'd be an easy score and that I wasn't really worth any work. _

Rose wiped at her eyes again. She didn't care what Jimmy Stones thought about her, she really didn't, but Shireen had stood behind him and nodded along with him when he talked about school giving her airs, and that had hurt more than anything.

_Lily, don't you dare listen to him. You are brilliant; any bloke worthy of you would be thanking his lucky stars that you were willing to talk to him, much less anything else._

_Yeah?_

James stared at his screen, willing his temper to calm down. When Lily's text had woken him up, he'd known something was wrong. She'd always followed courtesy to a T, never starting a conversation after 10:00. He'd feared the worst when she told him she'd run into an old boyfriend, but this wasn't much better.

_I know I do,_ he told her honestly. Even without all the help she'd inadvertently given him with Rose, James still would be grateful for meeting Lily Evans.

_You're just saying that because I said I'd let you plan our travel adventures._

He saw through her attempt to lighten the mood, and as tempting as it was to let her get away with it, he knew she needed to hear more. _No, I'm not. Lily… you're brilliant. You're clever and funny, and you don't let anyone walk all over you. _

She didn't say anything for several minutes, and James wondered if she'd fallen asleep. He was just about to ask when she started typing. _Will you tell me about where we're going next?_

James' heart turned over. He knew she didn't really believe him, at least not wholly, but he couldn't bring himself to push her any farther. If Lily wanted to be distracted, he would take her on an adventure she'd never forget.

_Oh, Lily Evans, there are so many places I want to take you,_ he told her, his imagination conjuring images of alien skies. _We could go to New Earth._

_What happened to the old one?_

James settled back onto his pillows, propping his head up with one hand while texting with the other. _The sun expanded and it burned up. I'll take you to see that, if you like._

_Are we time travellers now, John?_

_Well, what's the point of traveling the stars if you can't go through time. So, year five billion, the sun expands and the Earth is burnt up. Hence, New Earth. _

_I think there's more to the story than that,_ Lily said, _but I'll let you tell me the rest of it later. For now—can you smell that?_

James sniffed reflexively, then remembered this was all a story. _What is it?_

_Apples… apple grass! And the sky is so blue, it's almost impossible. Can I just say, John, travelling with you? I love it._

_I love it too, Lily. Think you can sleep now?_

_Yeah, thanks. Good night. Sorry to wake you._

_You can wake me up any time. Sleep well._


	3. Chapter 3

AN: So this is now a four part story instead of three, which I thought might happen. Lots of fluff here, but also a fair bit of angst.

Rose pushed through the ticket barrier, then jerked to a halt when her suitcase caught on the doors. She tugged again, but it didn't budge. The station employee working was busy with the wider gate—where she should have gone—so she swore under her breath and yanked harder. The suitcase finally came free, and the sudden lack of a counter weight nearly sent her sprawling to the ground.

Cheeks flushed and very aware of the irritated travellers behind her, she walked quickly out of the station, dragging the heavy bag behind her. Outside, the grey January sky promised rain, and she pulled her coat more tightly around her body.

"Can I help you with your luggage, Miss?"

Rose looked over her shoulder, then did a double take when she saw James leaning against the building. "James! What are you doing here?"

He grinned, and Rose was surprised to realise she'd missed his wide, toothy smile. "Martha mentioned you were getting back today, and since I happen to know your idea of packing light is laughable, I thought I'd offer a hand."

She raised an eyebrow. "Laughable? You know this, do you?"

James blushed and pulled on his ear. It was a nervous habit Rose had picked up on, and she wondered absently if it owed its slightly wonky shape to excessive tugging. "Welllll… Martha teased you about it after Easter hols last year," he mumbled.

"And you remembered that?"

"Of course I remembered. My mind is a like a steel trap."

"Maybe one that's been left out in the rain," Rose muttered, but she let him take the handle and started walking home.

"I heard that," he said from behind her, "but to prove how magnanimous I am, I'm going to ignore the slight against my intelligence."

Rose looked back at him. "I've heard about your 'vastly superior intelligence.'"

He sniffed. "Well, I don't like to brag."

"That's not how I remember it." His forehead creased in a frown, and she said, "On the quad last year with the Maths department? They were working on a problem and you solved it at a glance. When they looked at you in awe and said they'd been working on it two years, you just said, 'I'm very good.'"

"It's not my fault the maths professors here are idiots. That's why I'm studying physics."

They'd reached the foot of the long hill they'd have to climb to reach Rose's flat, and he grunted after a few steps. "What did you put in here, Rose? Rocks?"

She rolled her eyes. "If it's too heavy for your skinny arms to pull up the hill, I can take it the rest of the way. After all, I managed to get it all the way to Waterloo by myself this morning—navigating the Tube, thank you very much."

He sidestepped her attempt to take the bag. "Oi! Now you're insulting the strength in my manly, hairy arms, Rose Tyler? I didn't say I couldn't manage—I just pointed out your packing skills are… unique."

Rose laughed. "All right. I wouldn't want to insult your manly, hairy arms."

A raindrop splashed on her jacket, leaving a dark spot on the sleeve. "We'd better hop to," James said, and they both picked up the pace.

"I read all of _Prisoner of Azkaban_ over hols," Rose said. "Are you ready for Saturday?"

James' face broke into that same wide, excited grin she'd noticed before, and Rose's stomach flipped this time. "Oh yes! Actually, I found something I wanted to show you. Would you be up for an adventure, instead of meeting at Coffeevilla?"

"An adventure related to the book?"

"Yep!"

He popped the p and bounced a little, and Rose couldn't help but laugh yet again. "Yeah, all right."

"Brilliant!" he proclaimed. "Meet me at the bus station at 9:00 Saturday morning. And now, here we are—home sweet home, and just in time."

The rain was coming a bit more steadily as Rose unlocked the front door and let James set the bag down in the entryway. "Thank you, James," she said. "I'm looking forward to Saturday."

DWDWDWDWDW

James was soaked through by the time he reached his own flat. He took a quick shower to warm up, then sat down with _Goblet of Fire_, sparing a quick glance at his phone before flipping it open.

There was one new message, and he tapped on the icon, fairly certain who it was from. Texting with Lily had become a regular part of his day in a way he'd never anticipated when he signed up to be an Unboyfriend. _I'm back at uni. The train ride was completely uneventful, unlike the "trips" we take. _

He laughed, then quickly tapped out an apology. _Sorry. I got caught in the rain and hd to dry off before I could reply._

_No worries. I barely missed a soaking myself. _

_Glad one of us did, _he told her. Then, with an eye on her previous comment, he said, _Now, what's this you're implying about our adventures?_

_You have to admit we seem to land in trouble wherever we go. _

James chuckled. Of course there was trouble an adventure without trouble was just boring. _Trouble's just the bits in between! _he protested, then waited eagerly for her reply.

Lily did not disappoint. _Right, so… Nearly getting friend to a crisp while watching the end of the world._

That had been their very first trip after their late night conversation. A few days later, Lily had insisted he fill in the blanks he'd left behind when they'd been on New Earth, so he'd taken her to Platform One and… well…

_Coincidence._

_And saving the Earth during the Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire? _

_Should we have left them as slaves to the Mighty Jagrafess? _he asked, choosing to be purposely obtuse.

_What about stopping that—what did you call her, Slitheen?—from blowing up Cardiff?_

_Not even Cardiff deserves to be reduced to rubble by an alien keen on vengeance. _

_Still, you have to admit our made up travels seem more like a sci-fi series than a travelogue. _

James' mind spun with dozens of ideas of where to take Lily next, before settling on one. _Then I think it's time we used our frankly magnificent time ship to visit something fun, just for us. What would you say to visiting Elvis?_

_All right then, where are we?_

When he stopped to think about it, James was always amazed by how game Lily was. The only other person he knew who was as up for anything was Rose… For a moment, the idea of traveling the universe with Rose Tyler distracted him, and he let himself daydream about what it would be like to see the wonder in her eyes as he showed her alien planets.

_John?_

_Sorry, my mind wandered. Where were we?_

_That's what I was asking you._

_Oh, right. Ed Sullivan TV studios, 1956. Elvis did Hound Dog on one of the shows. There were loads of complaints. Bit of luck, we'll just catch it._

_1956 seems a bit early to see Elvis. I thought we'd be going for the Vegas era, you know, the white flares and the grr, chest hair. _

_You've got to be kidding. If you want to see Elvis, you see him when they called him the Pelvis and he still had chest hair. So. That's where we are. You going my way, doll?_

_Is there any other way to go, Daddy-o?_

Her reply tickled him. _Oh, you speak the lingo!_

_Oh well, me, mum, Cliff Richards movies every Bank Holiday Monday. _

Rose couldn't resist teasing John a bit. _Now, are you sure we're in New York? Your driving…_

_Just because you insisted on that story where I made you miss a whole year_. Rose could almost see him pouting._ I can only imagine how hard your mum would slap if that ever happened._

She laughed. Inserting those moments into he story was how she took control over their destination, but she couldn't tell if he'd figured that out or not. _It's just more interesting when you're not always right._

_Fine,_ he said. _You open the doors and you'll see, Lily. New York City. The Big Apple._

_Hmmmm…. Would that be a New York with red double decker busses and post boxes?_

_Well, a sort of Londony New York, mind. _Rose giggled at the very John-like way he put that._ So if we're not in New York, are we in 1956?_

_Close, but… 1953._

_Oh, the coronation! _

It was nearly an hour later when Lily and John managed to once again save the day, this time stopping an energy creature called The Wire from harnessing the brain waves of innocent Londoners to take physical form again. Rose groaned when she spotted the time. _I've got to go,_ she said. _I still haven't done the reading for my classes tomorrow._

_Oh. Yeah. I should get to that._

_Hey, John…_ Rose bit her lip. She'd typed the message out so many times since Christmas, but she'd never been able to hit send.

_Hmmm?_

_Nothing. I'll talk to you tomorrow._

_Night, Lily._

Rose rolled over and pressed her face into the cushion to stifle her scream. "I think I'm falling in love with you," she said. "How hard is it? Why can't I tell him?"

But she knew why. The whole idea of the Unboyfriend was no commitment. John hadn't signed up to find a girlfriend. And even though there were times she thought he might be flirting, he'd shown no signs of wanting to turn their friendship into something more. "Better to be friends than to push him away altogether."

DWDWDWDWDWDW

The first week back in classes drug on, as usual. The only thing that kept James from gong spare was the promise of his weekend with Rose. Early Saturday morning, he detoured by Coffeevilla for tea to go on his way to the bus station. Rose was endearingly grumpy before she'd had her first cuppa.

When she arrived at the station, she accepted the cup and took a long drink before saying a word. "Ta," she said then. "I didn't have time to make any before leaving home. And why are we up so early on Saturday?"

"It'll take almost an hour to get where we're going. You can," he cleared his throat, "you can nap on the bus if you want."

Rose yawned. "I just might."

The bus rolled up, and James climbed on first, giving the driver the fare for both of them. "You didn't have to pay," Rose protested.

"My idea, my treat," James insisted. He slid into a seat in the middle of the bus and forced himself not to react when Rose sat down next to him. It was just the close nature of bus seats that made her shoulder bump his and her thigh brush against his if she moved. It didn't mean anything. Judging from the rapid rhythm it set, his heart didn't care, but luckily, he managed to control other reactions to her proximity.

They were still in the city when Rose started yawning again. "M'sorry," she said sleepily. "I stayed up till almost 4:00 studying."

"We've got another half hour on the bus, if you'd like to sleep." She shook her head, then yawned so big her jaw cracked. James laughed and took the paper cup from her hands. "Go to sleep, Rose," he said, hoping she heard the affection he couldn't keep out of his voice. "I'll wake you up when we get there."

Within moments, she'd nodded off. James watched her for a while, enjoying the chance to admire her without her noticing. He sighed; pretending not to be in love with her had proven harder than he'd expected, especially as he'd gotten to know her better. Still, it was worth it if it gave him moments like this.

Anxious for something to keep his mind off the woman next to him, James carefully slid Roses's not quite empty cup into his own empty one and took his phone out of his pocket. "Bugger," he muttered when he realised the sound was still on. He was always careful to silence it when he spent time with Rose; the idea of reading a text from Lily while he was with Rose just didn't seem right. Lily had yet to text during their Saturday Harry Potter talks, but he wasn't taking any chances.

Rose made a soft sound in her sleep, and James looked over just in time to see her shift and rest her head on his shoulder. He froze. What was he supposed to do? She needed the rest, but would she be upset if she woke up and realised she was leaning on him?

He remembered how tired she was, and how grumpy she could be in the morning, and decided to risk it. His phone was slid back into his pocket—this was the closest he'd ever been to Rose Tyler, and he wouldn't be able to think about anything else until the bus stopped.

They reached their stop all too soon for James' taste. After hitting the request button, he tapped Rose lightly on the knee. "Wakey wakey," he said quietly. She shifted and nuzzled her noses against his shoulder. James sucked in a breath as longing shot through him, but he forced the yearning aside, and tapped her again. "Come on, Rose, time to wake up."

Her eyelashes fluttered open, and her cheeks turned pink when she realised what she was reclining against. "Sorry," she muttered, sitting up and pushing her hair out of her face.

"It's fine, Rose. You needed to sleep." He saw their stop just ahead and nudged her to stand up. James tossed their cups in the bin while they waited for the back doors to open. "Now, are you ready for an adventure?"

They jumped out of the bus, and the cool air felt good on Rose's heated cheeks. She'd fallen asleep on James' shoulder. He didn't seem to be ready to pounce on that moment of weakness, so she took a deep breath and looked around. "Where are we going?"

James spun around and walked backwards for a few steps. "On a little path through those trees."

Rose looked where he was pointing. If she squinted, she could see a break in the trees where there might be a path. "You're sure?"

He rolled his eyes and took her hand. "Rose Tyler, have I given you any reason to doubt me? Come on!"

His palm was warm next to hers, and Rose was surprised to find she enjoyed the feeling of simply holding his hand. She swallowed. Falling asleep on hm was one thing, but this was…

"So, what was your favourite part of the book?" she asked, trying to pull her mind back to Harry Potter where it belonged, and not on how comfortable she was becoming with James Noble.

He swung their hands between them. "Oooh, that's a tough question! I like the Knight Bus—imagine travelling in something like that."

Rose shuddered. "No ta, that scene in the movie gave me nightmares. I can't imagine being on a bus that drove through London like that."

The cold light of the winter sun made James appear paler than usual, and Rose spotted several freckles dusting the sweep of his nose and his left cheek. _Why've I never noticed those before?_

He was still talking, and Rose forced herself to listen to the words and not his voice. "But being able to just hail it from wherever you were, simply by sticking out your wand! And it seemed to get where it was going awfully fast too."

"Yeah, I'd rather take more time and be guaranteed to get there in one piece."

"All right then, what's your favourite magical form of conveyance?"

Rose thought briefly of the ship she and John used in their travels—the blue box they'd named the TARDIS, for Time And Relative Dimension In Space. Then she pushed the thought aside and thought about Harry Potter.

"I get why they're illegal, but I always wanted to own a magic carpet."

"Maybe they aren't illegal in the Wizarding Middle East," James suggested.

They reached the trees, but the path seemed to disappear. "James…"

"Trust me," he insisted, holding branches up so she could duck under them. He followed, and then dropped the curtain of branches.

Rose looked around her; they were completely enclosed in the woods. The trees were barren right now, but she could imagine would it be like in summer, with the leafy branches overhead blocking out all but the most determined rays of the sun and making you feel like you were in a fairy kingdom.

"Where are we?"

"You'll see," he said enigmatically. "So, what do you think? Are flying carpets legal in other countries?"

Rose tilted her head and considered. "I suppose they might be. I mean, what's really the difference between enchanting a broomstick to fly and a carpet? Isn't there just as much of a chance of a magic broom falling into Muggle hands as there is a magic carpet?"

"An excellent point! Some of the Wizarding laws I understand—like the law against raising dragons. The danger of that was perfectly obvious, really."

Rose giggled. "Poor Hagrid. He just can't understand why no one else loves the dangerous beasties, can he? What was he thinking, introducing a bunch of third years to a hippogriff?"

"Harry handled Buckbeak just fine," James pointed out.

"Well yeah, but he's the hero, innit he?" Rose said. "I mean, sometimes he has to be good at things because him being able to do them is important to the plot, and watching him learn would take too long."

A step later, she became aware that James wasn't moving. She turned around and laughed at the expression of utter betrayal on his face. "Oh, come on!" she said. "Sometimes you have to analyse it as a piece of literature, and not just a story. It's a writing construct that Rowling depends on at times, but she uses it well enough that it doesn't become obnoxious."

James sighed deeply. "As long as you don't start explaining characters' behaviours based on the role they played in the text. 'Oh, well you see, Neville had to be the one to stop them in the first book, because it foreshadows who he becomes in _Deathly Hallows_ when he stands up to the Carrows."

"Well…"

James pouted, and Rose pointedly ignored how luscious his plump bottom lip looked. "I don't believe this! Rose, honestly?"

"That's not a literary construct though!" she protested. "That's just… that's character development. Really, really good character development."

James squinted at her. "Do you have a literary crush on Neville Longbottom?"

"No," Rose said, a trifle too quickly.

"I think you do!" he crowed. "I think…"

Whatever he was going to say was forgotten when the trees opened up to a small clearing where a shack stood in the shade of a large willow tree. Rose gasped, and James bounced in delight. "I know! How much more perfect could it be?"

"It's just like I pictured it," Rose breathed. "I mean, I know the Shrieking Shack and Whomping Willow weren't actually side by side, but… these look so much like what I imagined."

She dropped James' hand and walked over to the willow tree and placed her hand on the trunk. The rough bark beneath her fingers sent a shiver up her spine. "You can almost imagine it's moving, can't you?"

"There's more!" James said, reaching for her hand again and dragging her around to the other side of the shack. "Look!"

Rose looked out over the lake, and for a moment she thought she could see the castle on the other side. "Harry would have been standing just over there when he cast his first patronus," she said, pointing slightly to the left.

"I'm surprised you aren't commenting on how a thirteen year old being able to successfully conjure a corporeal patronus is unbelievable."

Rose rolled her eyes. "It is a bit, yeah, but Defence Against the Dark Arts was always his strength. He was actually naturally talented in that."

"He was naturally talented at flying too," James pointed out.

A wind whipped up off the lake and Rose started shivering before she could counter that argument. James frowned. "You're getting cold; we should go back."

"When did you find this place?" Rose asked when they were back in the woods.

"A few weeks ago."

"You didn't go home for Christmas?"

James' fingers tightened around hers for mere seconds, but it was enough to tip her off. She watched his face carefully as he spoke, catching the way the muscle in his jaw twitched.

"I visited my cousin for a week, but my aunt and I don't really get along. Donna and Gramps are great, but… it's best for everyone if Aunt Sylvia and I have limited contact."

They walked in silence for a moment, then he looked over at her. "It's okay, you can ask."

"What about your parents?"

This time, his hand clenched so tightly it almost hurt. She returned the pressure and was gratified to see him relax slightly. "They died ten years ago in a car accident," he said quietly. "I went to live with Uncle Geoffrey and Aunt Sylvia, but my aunt… she blamed me."

"Why?"

"Because they were on their way to pick me up from school for the summer when it happened."

Rose's jaw dropped. "But that's completely unfair."

James laughed, but the sound was harsh and bitter, instead of the warm, joyful laugh she associated with him. "You think? Gramps told me later that she and my mum had a huge row the last time they were together, and Aunt Sylvia couldn't handle knowing she'd never be able to take back what she said."

"James, I am so sorry." He kept walked, and she tugged on his hand, forcing him to face her. "Hey, listen to me," she said softly. "That's an awful feeling—my mum fought with my dad before he died and sometimes I can tell it still hurts. But that does not make it okay for her to treat you like this."

"I still miss them," he whispered, and Rose's heart ached at the loneliness in his voice.

"Of course you do. I know what that's like. I've lived my whole life missing my dad, even though I don't even remember him."

James swallowed hard, and Rose watched his happy-go-lucky mask fall back into place. He held her gaze for another beat, then spun on his heels and yanked her along down the path.

Rose listened to him ramble about the trees and rocks and anything impersonal. There was something familiar in his behaviour, and she watched his mannerisms for a moment, her heart sinking when she placed them. This hyper-manic James Noble was the one she'd met over a year and a half ago, the one she'd rejected fifty times. The one she'd been so certain wasn't interested in her at all.

What if that casual, unaffected attitude was only a defence so she couldn't see how much he did care? What if he'd actually been in love with her, and she'd refused to see it?

DWDWDWDWDW

Rose sat down across from Martha and banged her head on the table. "All right, what's wrong?"

"I think I'm falling for James," Rose mumbled against the tabletop.

"Sit up and say that again?"

Rose groaned, but straightened up. "I think I'm falling for James."

Martha grinned. "Why are you acting like this is the end of the world? You know he's crazy about you."

"One," Rose said, ticking the problems off with her fingers, "I'm not sure he is anymore. It's been three months since he's shown any sign of interest. And two…" She hesitated; this was the moment of truth. "I've kinda… I met someone through an online dating service and we've been talking for three months," she said in a rush.

Martha's eyes narrowed. "You have a virtual boyfriend?"

Rose examined her nails. "Maybe?"

"What do you mean, maybe?"

"Well… In my initial profile, I said I was only looking for friendship. But now…"

"You're falling for—what's his name?"

"John Smith."

"You're falling for John too."

Rose nodded.

"And I suppose there's no point in telling you how ridiculous your fears regarding James are. He is still so head over heels for you, it isn't even funny."

"Really? Because in all the hours we've spent together since November, he's not once done anything to indicate interest. He doesn't even check me out."

Martha snorted. "Not while you could see, at least. Trust me, Rose—the way he looks at you when he knows you can't see is sickening. He is so far gone."

"Then why doesn't he say anything?"

"I don't know, but it might have something to do with the fifty times you rejected him." Rose stared at the table, and Martha sighed. "He's not going to make a move without an invitation from you, Rose."

"What about John though?"

"You don't even know him, not really!"

"That's not true. We're… we've talked a lot. You remember me telling you about that horrible party I went to over Christmas?" Martha nodded. "Well, I texted him when I got home, an' he was… he was brilliant."

"Then ask if you can meet and see if he's the same bloke you think he is. But don't turn James down based on someone you only know virtually. I'm thinking of a phrase about a bird in the hand and two in the bush."

DWDWDWDWDWDW

James was the last to arrive at the pub on Friday night. He noted with some amusement that an already tipsy Martha seemed to be pestering Rose about something. He noticed with less amusement that Rose didn't seem happy with the teasing, while Jack and Mickey were content to be spectators.

He nodded to his friends on the way to the bar and returned a few minutes later with the next round. Martha took hers and downed half of it in one go. "Slow down, babe," Mickey said. "Let the rest of us catch up, yeah?"

Martha shook her head. "'S my last chance to really cut loose," she said, her words already slurred. "After tonight, I have to sh-study extra hard if m'gonna win that position next year."

James and Rose looked at each other over the rim of their glasses, eyes brimming with amusement. Everyone but Martha knew she had an absolute lock on the assistantship she wanted. She was far and away the best pre-med student at the university, and unless she completely bombed the rest of the term, the job was hers.

But then, it was hers because she took her work seriously and studied hard, so deciding in January that she would focus on studying was… very Martha.

Jack started telling an exaggerated story about the couple he'd found himself in bed with the previous weekend—at least, James thought it was exaggerated. It was hard to tell with Jack sometimes.

The loud scrape of chair legs over a wooden floor pulled his attention back to the other side of the table. Rose stood up, her cheeks slightly flushed. "My turn to buy the next round, I think."

James frowned at her disappearing form. The forced brightness in her voice was transparently fake. "What was that about?"

Martha smirked and leaned toward him with a totally earnest expression on her face. "I've been telling her to ask her internet boyfriend out on a real date so she can realise she's actually in love with you."

The spun around him, even though the pint in his hand was his first. James set the glass down with a hard thud. "Her… what?"

Martha nodded. "Rose used a dating site! Only she says they're just friends, but she wants more. I told her she should want more with you instead."

James spotted Rose on her way back. This was the true test, then. Could he really be Rose's friend, even if she wanted to be with someone else? His crushed heart screamed no, but then he saw the lines of tension around her mouth and eyes, and realised this must be what she was afraid of—that he'd bolt once he learned she was in love with someone else.

He took a deep breath and forced a smile to his face just as Rose returned. "So, what'd I miss?" she asked as she passed the glasses around.

"Martha here just told James all about your internet boyfriend," Jack said.

"Martha, you didn't." Rose swung a stricken gaze to James. "I am so sorry."

He shrugged. "What for?" he asked. "I have nothing against online dating."

"No, but…" Rose stared at him for a long moment, her brow furrowed in confusion. James felt a little humiliated that she'd obviously thought this would break him, but he hid his discomfort behind an easy smile.

"See Rose!" Martha said. "Now you can tell John you want to meet."

"You haven't met yet?" James said, feeling the faintest glimmer of hope. If this John didn't turn out to be what she'd expected…

Martha swung an arm over Rose's shoulder. "Nope! So I told her she needed to meet John face to face before she—"

Rose slapped a hand over her flat mate's mouth. "If I text John and ask if he wants to meet, will you quit talking about this?" Martha nodded, and rose tug her phone out of her bag. "Here, I'm doing it. 'John, I think we should meet.' Good enough?"

Martha rolled her eyes. "Tell him you like him," she whined. "Make it juicy."

James was grateful to see the idea of "juicy" appealed as much to Rose as it did him. "I'm not that drunk," she said flatly, and pushed Martha away.

"At least make it clear you mean on a date."

Rose squirmed in her seat and glanced up at James again. The lines around her mouth had deepened, and his already broken heart clenched at how unhappy she looked. "Martha, let it go," he said.

But Martha was quicker than anyone had expected, given how drunk she was. She plucked the phone from Rose's fingers and tapped out a message before anyone could react. "There! Now he'll know what you mean."

She handed the phone back to Rose, who groaned when she read the message. "'This just friends bit isn't working for me anymore.' You misspelled friends," she told Martha.

Martha waved a hand through the air dismissively. "He'll know what I mean—no, what you mean!" she said and laughed. "Now we just have to see what he says."

There was an awkward silence around the table as they all waited for Rose's phone to chime. After a few minutes, Rose shook her head and downed what was left of her beer. "I'm not going to think about it," she said. "Micks, tell me what's going on with football."

James managed to stay another half hour, but the increasingly bereft looks he saw Rose flick to her silence phone finally became too much for him. "Right, you lot, it's been a long week and I'm shattered. I think I'll just go home and sleep."

He nodded to the round of good nights, then left the pub, feeling distressingly sober for how devastated he was. Whoever this John bloke was, it didn't matter if he and Rose hadn't met. She was clearly completely gone.

A storm of emotion roiled inside him—dejection, anger, sorrow, and more he couldn't even identify. For the moment, there was so much, he couldn't focus on any of them, and he was blissfully blank.

When he got home, he pulled his keys, change, and phone from his pocket and tossed them all on his dresser. The phone landed face up, and he caught a flash of the notifications screen before it went to sleep again.

He was in no mood to text anyone, but muscle memory had him waking the phone up before he'd realised what he'd done. _Two messages from Lily,_ his brain registered before the words hit him, and he completely shut off, unable to process what he was seeing.

The phone went to sleep again, and he impatiently woke it up and went to his messages, staring at the last two from Lily.

_John, I think we should meet._

_This just freinds bit isn't working for me anymore._


	4. Chapter 4

_He was in no mood to text anyone, but muscle memory had him waking the phone up before he'd realised what he'd done. __**Two messages from Lily,**__ his brain registered before the words hit him, and he completely shut off, unable to process what he was seeing. _

_The phone went to sleep again, and he impatiently woke it up and went to his messages, staring at the last two from Lily. _

_**John, I think we should meet.**_

_**This just freinds bit isn't working for me anymore.**_

James stared at the words, the same ones that had ripped his heart to shreds less than an hour ago. He might have brushed it off as a coincidence if it weren't for one thing—an i and e flipped. "You misspelled friends," Rose had told Martha.

He paced the room, going over everything he knew about Lily, looking for anything that would make it impossible for her to be Rose. Both lived in London with a single mum. Lily loved Harry Potter, and Rose loved going on adventures. Both of them saw things he completely missed.

_And Lily registered for Unboyfriend to deter a persistent classmate._ James winced, but at least it held true.

And then there was the most compelling piece of evidence, the one he held in his hand. Rose had sent two text messages to her virtual boyfriend, and he'd gotten the same messages from Lily—his virtual not-quite-girlfriend.

James sank down onto the couch and stared at the ceiling. Rose was Lily. Rose was falling for John—for _him._ A third thought came fast on the heels of that one, chasing away the smile that had been spreading across his face.

Rose didn't know he was John.

_Will she believe me if I tell her I didn't know she was Lily?_ Looking at it from her point of view, he couldn't help but see his own actions as highly suspect. In his very first conversation with Lily, he'd pushed for tips on how to be more attractive to Rose. He'd changed his behaviour based on Lily's advice, and it had worked better than he'd hoped.

He groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. _And then the very next weekend, I "just happened" to run into her at Coffeevilla. _It hadn't been planned at all, but would Rose believe that, with all the evidence stacked against him?

A key turned in the lock and John looked over at the door as Jack walked into the flat. "How are you, James?" The sympathy in his friends' voice made James laugh. He held up his phone, and after a moment of confusion, Jack took it. After he read the messages, he looked up at James. "Okay, so how did Rosie's texts to her online boyfriend end up on your phone?"

James took the phone back and waited for Jack to sit down. "Remember last fall when you got sick of me moping over Rose and dared me to register to be an Unboyfriend?"

There was a half second of silence, and then Jack started laughing. "You mean you've been texting Rose incognito for months and neither of you knew it?" James nodded. "And now she wants to meet to see if you could be a real couple instead of a fake one?"

James shifted in his seat; Jack's amusement was uncomfortably at odds with his own anxiety. Jack quickly picked up on his mood and asked, "Why aren't you all manic excitement?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe I'm more concerned with how I can tell Rose the truth without making her thing I've been playing her this whole time."

Jack stretched his legs out in front of him, his Cheshire cat grin still painted on his face. "You're forgetting one detail. Being matched with Rose wasn't something you had any control over. If she does ask questions—and yeah, she probably will—that's where you start. Then you swear on your honour that you didn't know until tonight, and you're home free."

James turned the phone over in his hands, considering Jack's advice. Being matched with Rose was more than he could have arranged. Maybe that fact would soften her enough to listen… "You think I should agree to meet her then?"

Jack gaped at him, then leapt up and cuffed him on the back of the head. "Ow! What was that for?"

"The girl of your dreams—the one you've been mooning over for almost two years—she tells you she wants to take your relationship to the next step, and you're not running to her with open arms? I never took you for an idiot, James Noble."

James rubbed at the back of his head. "Rose is finally talking to me. We're friends… I'd rather stay quiet and be her friend than ruin it by trying for something more."

"Not an idiot then, a coward." Jack sighed. "Look James, I understand where you're coming from, but that isn't fair to Rose. You saw how upset she was when "John" didn't answer her messages. Can you really leave her thinking you're not interested? And can your conscience handle the guilt of not telling her you're John, now that you know? If you kept the truth from her now, she'd have every right to be angry when she found out."

The inevitability of Rose finding out hadn't occurred to James, and he felt all the blood drain from his face as he imagined her rage. Jack nodded. "Good. Now text your girlfriend and go to bed. And don't be surprised if she doesn't answer right away. Mickey took her and Martha home about half an hour ago, so she's probably asleep already."

Jack disappeared to his own room, leaving James alone. He typed out several replies to Lily's request, but none of them sounded right. What if Martha had overstated Rose's feelings? What if she'd only texted him in the first place because she was drunk, or tired of arguing with her friend? He nearly gave up and put the phone away, but then he remembered Jack's warning regarding Rose's anger.

But in the end, it was the memory of the sad way she'd watched her phone that gave him the courage to be honest with her. Maybe she wasn't falling for him like Martha had said, but she certainly no longer saw "John" as just a friend. He tapped out a quick, two word answer and hit send, and then sent another, longer message that would eliminate any doubt as to his feelings.

DWDWDWDWDW

Bright sunlight streamed into Rose's room, hitting her face and rousing her from slumber. She grunted and yanked her blanket over her head; normally she was careful to close the curtains before going to bed, but between the alcohol and John's silence, she hadn't been thinking clearly the night before.

She tried to fall back to sleep, but the nasty flavour in her mouth wouldn't be ignored. Groaning in frustration, she tossed the covers back and stood up, moving slowly in deference to the dull throbbing in her head.

She fumbled around in the loo for a glass of water and some paracetamol, then pulled her dressing gown on. _Might as well go eat. _She purposely left her phone sitting on her bedside table; she could figure out how to save face with John after she'd had her tea.

Mickey was on the sofa, flicking through the channels with the telly muted. She raised her eyebrows and he pointed down the hall. "Martha's still asleep."

Rose pressed her lips into a thin line. "I don't care."

"Look, Rose…"

"No!" She cut through the air with her arm. "I can't… Martha ruined everything. How am I ever going to explain this to John?"

Mickey tilted his head back to look at her. "You really care about this person you've never met?"

His doubt rankled, so she ignored the question. "And to do it front of James! That's just… that was cruel. Although he didn't seem too upset, so maybe he doesn't fancy me anymore, which I know now, thanks to Martha."

Mickey snorted. "Of course James is still crazy about you. Or didn't you noticed how early he left last night?"

Rose shoved her hair out of her face and shuffled into he kitchen. Behind her, she heard Mickey shut the telly off and get up to follow her. "I mean it, Rose. And he was the one who got Martha to leave you alone when he could tell how upset you were."

"But that just makes it worse," Rose argued as she put the kettle on and pulled two cups out of the cabinet. She dropped a teabag in each one, then turned back to Mickey. "I mean, if he still… well, then Martha really hurt him by rubbing John in his face."

Mickey cocked an eyebrow. "You're awfully concerned with how James feels and if he was hurt. I thought you were falling for your online bloke." Rose didn't answer, but Mickey had known her long enough to correctly interpret the silence. "You like them both, don't you? John and James."

She sigh. "Yeah. And yesterday, I thought maybe I'd have a chance with one of them, but now John isn't talking to me and James thinks I'm in love with someone else! So excuse me if I'm not ready to forgive Martha yet."

The kettle went off and Rose poured water into both cups, then grabbed hers and escaped to her room. She shed her dressing gown and climbed back onto the bed, sitting upright with her back against the headboard. Her phone beckoned to her, and she sighed and picked it up. "Can't put this off forever," she muttered, unlocking the phone without looking at the screen.

On her home screen, the messages icon mocked her. _Two notifications. From John? Letting me down gently?_ Her thumb hovered over the button for a few seconds before she gathered her courage and opened the app.

She read the texts from John, then reread them, then again for a third time.

_Quite right._

_And I suppose, Lily Evans, since I finally have a chance to tell you… the feeling is mutual. _

Rose stared at her phone, waiting for her brain to stop playing tricks on her. But no matter how many times she blinked, the words didn't change. Happiness threatened to spread through her, but she still needed to be sure he really meant it.

_When you didn't reply last night, I thought… well, maybe it was just me._

She hit send and crossed her fingers, and less than a minute later, she saw him begin to reply. Rose held a bath that she released as a squeak of joy when his message came through. _Definitely not just you. _And then a moment later, _So, do you want to meet?_

_Yeah, of course. _A problem occurred to Rose, and she bit her lip. _Where do you live though?_

_Devon._

Surprised laughter bubbled up inside Rose. _Well that's convenient then. I'm in Exeter._

_Very convenient. I could be in Exeter tonight… if you want?_

For a moment, the speed at which everything was changing overwhelmed Rose, and she almost said no. But the hint of uncertainty at the end of his text, as if he didn't quite believe she wanted to meet him, encouraged her. _You move fast, John,_ she teased. _But yeah, tonight would work. Where do you want to meet?_

_You know the place by the cathedral where the restaurants set up tables in the summer?_

Rose knew exactly where he meant. _Yeah, of course._

_I'll be there at 6:00._

_How will I recognise you?_

_I could ask you the same thing, Lily Evans. _

Rose giggled. His habit of calling her by her full name had started to feel like a term of endearment. _We could go with the classic? _she suggested. _I'll carry a book and you wear a carnation?_

_You are a romantic, aren't you? _Before she could feel embarrassed by her suggestion, he sent a second text. _What book will you be carrying?_

Book. Rose finally twigged to the day and glanced at the time. She only had an hour before she was supposed to meet James. Harry Potter came to mind immediately, but as she started to reply, she paused. She and John hadn't really discussed Harry Potter since that first week. It felt wrong, somehow, to use something she'd shared with James to connect with John.

A bittersweet longing lodged in her heart at the thought of James. Of course she couldn't have both men; she knew that. Didn't make it ache any less as she chose one.

But she was supposed to be telling John what book she'd be carrying. She glanced at her book case and a title jumped out at her. _Let's stick with tradition,_ she said. _Pride and Prejudice._

DWDWDWDWDW

The bell on the door jingled when Rose entered Coffeevilla. After so many weeks, the barista recognised her and raised an eyebrow in question, holding up a pot. Rose nodded and paid the cashier, getting a pastry to go with her tea.

"Is your boyfriend coming today too?" the barista asked as she handed Rose the tea.

"He's not… we're not…"

The other woman cringed. "I'm sorry, I just figured, from the way you look at each other."

"S'okay," Rose assured her.

But the exchange rattled her a bit. Here was a stranger who'd assumed she and James were together, based on nothing but the way they acted around each other.

She took a deep breath and sat down. _I'm with John now,_ she reminded herself, _or I will be as long as tonight goes well. _She turned the cup right side up and poured some milk into it, followed by tea. The ritual calmed her nerves, and she flipped open the book to finish the chapter she was on before James arrived.

She'd just finished when she felt a prickling sensation on the back of her neck, like someone was watching her. She looked over her shoulder and saw James, standing outside the cafe with a painfully uncertain expression on his face. For the second time in less than twenty minutes, she wondered if Mickey and Martha were right and he did still have feelings for her. The ache in her heart was stronger now, but she smiled at him and he finally stepped inside.

Rose listen to him ramble at the counter, debating his order and going on about the properties of the various drinks and what benefits they each provided. It was so James that she couldn't help but smile.

"You certainly look happy today," he said when he sat down. Rose ducked her head and cursed the flush she could feel spreading across her cheeks. "In fact," he continued, "I'd wager you finally got a reply from John."

She glanced at her phone before meeting his eyes, happiness swelling up inside her when she thought of her plans for the evening. "Yeah, I did."

James drank from his latte. "And?"

Rose tilted her head, trying to see some sign in his demeanour that he was bothered by the idea of her seeing someone else, but he just met her gaze steadily. She let out a breath slowly, trying to convince herself it was relief she felt.

"We're meeting tonight."

James raised his eyebrows. "He doesn't waste any time, does he? Not that I would either, if I were in his shoes."

"James…"

Something flickered in his eyes too quickly for her to identify it. "Right," he said, "so how far did you get in _Goblet of Fire?_"

Rose blinked. His words had seemed… wistful? But now he was just acting like this was a normal day for them. She remembered watching the mask fall over his emotions the week before and debated calling him on it, but what good would it do? Suppressing a sigh, she picked her book up. "I got as far as the names being drawn out for the Triwizard Tournament."

James leaned back in his seat and stretched his legs out. Rose had become accustomed to this habit, so she shifted over automatically, wondering as she did when exactly she'd gotten so familiar with James Noble's mannerisms.

"Poor Harry," he said, and she forced her thoughts back to the book. "I've always thought it was a bit unfair of everyone to blame him for a situation he obviously couldn't have orchestrated."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, Moody… er, Barty Jr. says it, doesn't he? It would have taken a wizard with more skill than Harry had to confound the goblet of fire, so obviously, it wasn't his fault his name was called. And yet the whole school, even his best friend, thought he'd done it."

Rose felt a need to defend Ron. "Well yeah, but think of it from Ron's point of view. He's never gotten anything he wanted. He already had a hard time dealing with Harry's money, and now he's gone and gotten himself entered in this special contest. He feels like yet again, life has passed him over in favour of Harry."

James slumped a little, and Rose got the distinct impression that hadn't been the reply he'd hoped for. But before she could backtrack, he took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders.

"Yeah, I guess it must've hurt Ron to always see someone else get what he wanted. And it happens a lot in this book—look at Hermione and Krum."

Rose's mouth dropped open a little. _Did he just…_

A furrow appeared on James' brow, and she could almost see him going over what he'd just said. He turned scarlet when he realised it, and started stammering denials and protests. "I'm just saying… you pointed out… It was a hard year for Ron."

Rose nodded. "It was," she said softly. "Of course, if he'd just done as Hermione suggested and asked her himself, that could have been avoided at least."

She expected him to bolt. She did not expect him to meet her gaze squarely and say, "And if he'd done that, do you reckon she would have said yes?"

Rose's heart beat faster. They weren't talking about Ron and Hermione, and they both knew it. She wondered briefly if it was fair of her to tell him this when she was meeting John in only a few hours, but he seemed to want to know. "If he'd said something before Krum asked, yeah."

Something in his eyes lit up, and she feared she'd given him too much hope. But before she could retract her statement or explain, there was a loud crash in the kitchen.

The barista groaned. "New dishwasher. I'd better go see how much damage he did."

When Rose looked at James again, the spark of hope was buried, or maybe she'd just imagined it. "So the beginning of this book is a bit different," he said. "What did you think about Rowling breaking away from Harry's point of view—since you like to analyse it as a piece of literature."

Rose rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to answer, but she was cut off by the alarm on her phone. "Time to get ready to meet John?" he asked.

She nodded and slid out of the booth. "See you later, James."

DWDWDWDWDW

A cold January wind whistled through the streets. James shivered and pulled his brown wool coat around himself more tightly, grateful for its length. He'd not considered the weather when he'd suggested they meet outside; hopefully Rose wouldn't get too cold waiting for him.

He was almost certain she'd be glad to find out he was John, as long as she believed him when he told her he hadn't arranged it. Her happiness this afternoon had been too obvious to miss, but under that there was something else when she looked at him, something he wanted to say was longing. Still, he would have dismissed it if she hadn't told him, well almost told him, that if he'd asked her out before she sent those messages to John, she would have said yes.

His hands dug deeper into the warm pockets, and the fingers of his right hand brushed against the soft petals of the carnation he'd purchased that afternoon. For a moment as he turned the corner near the cathedral, he thought about putting it on. Then he saw Rose, and his courage faltered.

He pulled his hands out of his pockets and walked over to her. "Fancy seeing you here," he said lightly. "Is this where you're meeting John?"

Rose bit her lip, and he was surprised to see nervousness in her eyes. "Yeah, he'll be here at six." They both looked at their phones—five till six.

"Tell me about him," James said. Her eyebrows rose, and he shrugged. "You have five minutes, and it'll keep you from watching the clock."

Her laughter sent a trickle of warmth down his spine. "Yeah, all right. Well, first of all, he loves Harry Potter as much as you do. He sent me this email months ago about how the movies weakened both Rose and Hermione's characters."

"Well they did," James said, keeping his voice mild. "Giving all Ron's good lines to her turns her into a Mary Sue and takes away some of his best qualities. Not really a fan of the films, personally."

Rose looked at him oddly. "That's almost exactly what he said."

"We must've read the same online post then," James said easily. "So he has good taste in fiction. What does he look like though?"

She blushed. "I don't know. We've never sent pictures."

"You don't… then how are you supposed to recognise each other?" Rose held up her book. "Ah, of course. And I suppose he'll be carrying a rose?"

"Wearing a carnation," she corrected.

James slipped his hand into his pocket and touched the flower. "He'll walk around the corner with a carnation on his lapel, and he'll see you with your book, and—"

"James, stop," Rose said. "Look, I don't want to be rude, or mean, but it's already 6:00, and… what are you doing here, anyway?"

"Meeting someone, same as you."

She pursed her lips, and lines appeared around her mouth. "Well I… what if John… I don't want…"

"You don't want John to see you talking to someone else and get the wrong idea."

"Nah, if he runs because I'm talking to another man, then good riddance." She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I just think it's nerve wracking enough to meet someone for the first time like this, without an audience. I don't want to scare him away."

James smiled softly. "I think your John is far too excited about meeting you to let anything scare him away."

Rose huffed out a sigh and turned away, her eyes roaming the street. James pulled the slightly crumpled flower out of his pocket and stuck the stem through his buttonhole. "In fact, I imagine he's dreamed of this moment for longer than you can imagine. He'll walk down the street and see you standing here, looking so beautiful and holding a copy of _Pride and Prejudice,_ and he'll smile and say, 'Hello, Lily Evans.'"

"James, please!" Rose exclaimed, then she spun around, her mouth hanging open. "What did you call me?"

Her eyes fixed on the carnation, the splash of crimson against brown that declared his identity more clearly than words. "Surprise?"

Rose blinked slowly. "How did… John?"

James nodded. "John Smith Smith not be the most inventive alias," he said.

"I don't understand." She ran her hands through her hair, and the lines around her mouth deepened.

James spoke quickly, trying to get the explanation out before she moved from confused to angry. "Jack dared me to sign up for Unboyfriend, something about using it to learn what I was doing wrong…"

"With me," Rose finished. A glint of steel entered her eyes, and he forced himself not to flinch. "So was this all an elaborate plan to finally get me to go out with you?"

"No!" James stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Even if I wanted to do that—and I wouldn't—there's no way I could have arranged being matched with you."

"Just like Harry couldn't arrange for his name to be in the goblet of fire." James swallowed hard and nodded. "When did you figure it out?"

"Only last night, I swear. When I saw the texts, the same ones I watched you send John."

Her stance relaxed and she nibbled on her lip. James held him completely still under her examination, and finally, she smiled. "I wished it could be you."

The soft confession made James' heart soar. He reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "Well, here I am." She leaned slightly into his caress, and he couldn't help but close the distance between them. "May I?" he whispered against her lips. Her nod caused her lips to brush against his, and he followed them with his own for a sweet, soft kiss.

When Rose sighed and pulled away, James looked down at her in rapt amazement. "You know, I think I've been falling for you again as Lily Evans," he said. "I just wouldn't admit it to myself. How could I fall for Lily when I'm already in love with Rose?"

Her wide eyes and quick gasp reminded him that even though he'd been in love with Rose forever, this was actually their first date. He took half a step back, even though his body protested the distance. "Sorry, is that too much?"

She drew in a shaky breath and shook her head. "Not if you mean it."

"Oh, I do. Rose Tyler, no matter what name you go by, I love you."

Rose placed her hands on his lapels, and she touched the carnation for a moment before sliding her hands up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. James' hands landed naturally on her waist, holding her close. She looked up at him through her eyelashes and said, "Then I suppose, if it's my first chance to say it—James Noble, I love you."

He recognised his own line and laughed softly. "Quite right," he replied before leaning down to kiss her again.


End file.
